


dress

by light_loves_the_dark



Series: ooh you and me would be a big conversation [4]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Clint Barton Is a Good Bro, Clint is The Best at Emotions, Communication, Delicate 'Verse, Don't Be Too Hard on Them, F/M, Natasha Romanov Has Issues, Natasha Romanov Needs Space, Natasha and Tony have their First Fight, Newly established relationship, Protective Tony Stark, Skye | Daisy Johnson Needs a Hug, but it's gonna be okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-29
Updated: 2019-08-22
Packaged: 2020-07-25 16:53:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20029144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/light_loves_the_dark/pseuds/light_loves_the_dark
Summary: They need some time to figure it all out. He needs some time to suppress the urge to take her to his island in the Mediterranean and stay there in spite of the world, an urge that is possibly the most surefire way to let this growing thing between them die.It’s not like he’d actually try to take away her choice, he reasons, rational now when he can’t see the wounds that nearly took her from him. But in that hospital, begging her to please - just keep breathing, please sweetheart - he had nearly called the plane to pick them up right then.-nat and tony face their first roadblock after getting together. set in the month between nat and tony’s first kiss and their going public. in the delicate ‘verse.





	1. even in our worst lies

**Author's Note:**

> dedicated to etiennette, who has the relationship experience to help me understand nat in this story. her advice was invaluable <3
> 
> major spoilers for delicate! you might want to read that first.
> 
> title from taylor swift.

-

_ … all of this silence and patience, pining in anticipation _

_ my hands are shaking from holding back from you. _

_ all of this silence and patience, pining and desperately waiting _

_ my hands are shaking from all this … _

_ … even in my worst lies, you saw the truth in me…  _

-

“Mr. Stark, Mr. Stark! Can you say anything about Miss Romanoff’s condition?” 

“Mr. Stark-”

Tony pushes through the reporters, peripherally aware of their shouted questions and demands. He wouldn’t even be here if Pepper and he hadn’t had a standing agreement for him to say something to the press if he plans on disappearing for more than a week.

And disappearing they are. Tony’s emotional state is torn between two complex states. The first: utter joy and a soft kind of delight that Natasha and he have finally come to an understanding about their relationship. Waking up in her arms this morning has filled him with an almost unbearable, gentle weightlessness, like he could do anything - a feeling that used to be reserved for flying in the suit. The second: an abject, deep terror, because the same person who now makes him feel like he is flying had plummeted to the ground and nearly died on his watch two days ago.

Natasha’s condition is firmly stable, but her recovery is not without issues. She still has two holes in her abdomen, and it had taken Helen a little too long to regenerate her tissue because of the messy stitching job that had saved her life. A job for which Tony is extremely grateful, but it does mean that Nat will be out of commission for a week or so.

Suffice to say, they need some time to figure it all out.  _ He _ needs some time to suppress the urge to take her to his island in the Mediterranean and stay there in spite of the world, an urge that is possibly the most surefire way to let this growing thing between them die. 

It’s not like he’d actually try to take away her choice, he reasons, rational now when he can’t see the wounds that nearly took her from him. But in that hospital, begging her to  _ please just keep breathing, please sweetheart _ , he had nearly called the plane to pick them up right then. 

He swings himself up onto the platform, turning to face the crowds.

“Alright, kids, I’m going to be on vacation for the next two weeks. Colonel Rhodes will be running all Avengers related activity at the Tower, with Vision at the Compound to continue operations upstate. So, to all the bad guys out there, right now is definitely not your window to attack, because if you pull me off of whatever beach I choose to lie on, I’ll be pissed.” Clapping his hands as if to illustrate his point, he leans on the dais. “As far as I’m concerned, that’s all you need to know, but I guess I’ll answer a few questions.” He looks down at the crowd, spotting one of his favorites from the Times in the front row. “Charlie, right?”

The man gives him a nod. “Mr. Stark, Miss Romanoff’s hospitalization was on the news. Does this vacation, and please accept my best wishes, have anything to do with that fight?”

Tony straightens, bringing himself to his full height. “The Black Widow is just fine.”  _ She nearly wasn’t.  _ “Her injuries are minor.”  _ She nearly bled to death in my arms.  _ “She’s almost healed up.”  _ She has two holes in her abdomen that she refuses to let me see.  _ “This vacation is for vacationing purposes only, I promise.”  _ Get Nat to safety, hold her, protect her… _

Clearly, no one believes him, but he must look pretty manic because the remainder of the questions are about Stark Industries and Avengers operations. 

He retreats back to the penthouse an hour or so later, finding Natasha on the couch with an excited Peter at her feet, who is clearly in the middle of some long, drawn out Spiderman story. Daisy’s sprawled out next to them both, clicking away on her phone. Her head is resting on Natasha’s shoulder, and Tony knows she is listening to the other woman’s vibrations. They all have their own way of coping. 

It’s really quite a picture, he thinks, hanging back in the doorway. He’s always had Rhodey and Pepper, but he never really thought anything was missing until he found this too. Daisy, Peter, and Natasha, always Natasha, have become his little super-powered family, and it’s moments like these that he can really see and savor it. 

“Mr. Stark!” 

The moment is broken in the best way as Peter bounds toward him, and he was wrong, it isn’t a Spiderman story. It’s a love story, Peter tells him, as he details the thoughtful, carefully planned out way he asked MJ to the movies that is clearly an over-exaggeration. He knows this boy, knows that Peter probably did it as an accident and got lucky, but still hums in support at the appropriate moments. 

Natasha has straightened up on the couch by the time he catches her eye; Tony has known her for long enough that she does it to cause him less pain, as if by appearing normal will cause him to forget about finding her unmoving on the ground, blood trailing from her mouth, whispering revelations that she’s afraid to die without making. His smile fades, and as if they are connected, hers does too.

“How are you feeling?” He asks after Peter’s story ends, low and with a sort of faux-calm he doesn’t feel. He pats Peter on the shoulder, flashing him a quick smile when the boy beams up at him, before making his way to the couch. Daisy still hasn’t lifted her head, and if she’s this traumatized, they’re going to need to talk later, but Tony’s priority right now is Natasha. 

“They have me on the best meds,” she tells him with a soft smirk, and he can’t ignore that she didn’t answer the question.

He moves to lift her shirt, but she grasps his hand before he can see anything. The touch is gentle, but the lack of perceived trust causes tendrils of anger to escape where he’s carefully kept them caged for the past 48 hours. Waking up in her arms this morning had placated him, and the kisses she had given him last night were something out his wildest dreams, but neither erase the panic-caused fury he feels at the world. He drops her hand.

“Nat-” He starts, his voice a mixture of warning and pleading.

Retaking his hand, she squeezes firmly. “Later,” she promises, darting her eyes to Peter and then to Daisy, who is watching their exchange warily.

“I’m gonna go pack,” she announces, steering Peter out of the room as she goes. Before disappearing through the doorway, though, she shoots a warning look in their direction, and Tony really doesn’t know who she meant it for. Probably both of them. “Give me a shout at ETA one hour!” 

Natasha waits for them to leave earshot before speaking. “I’m worried about Daisy,” she says, matter-of-fact.

Tony sighs. “I’ll talk to her once we get settled,” he assures her, and he takes a moment to revel in the out-of-body experience of the parental-therapy role he has settled into with Daisy and Peter. Feelings and emotions have never been his strong point, but the emotional literacy that comes with hearing both Peter’s teenager problems and Daisy’s deeply traumatic, self-worth issues has only benefited him in both work and with his personal relationships. He hopes that Natasha isn’t offended when the two younger Avengers don’t ask her for that kind of help, but he suspects she’s grateful that they feel comfortable with him. Not to mention that she has her hands full with Wanda. 

“Now,” he asks again, settling next to her. “How are you feeling?”

There is a moment where he thinks she might equivocate and avoid responding, but instead she looks him straight in the eye. “I’m still not comfortable discussing my injuries,” she admits, her voice nearly robotic in an attempt to provide him with the truth against her instincts. “Can you - I mean, will you wait for me to be ready?”

Tony takes her hand in his, pressing a soft kiss to the inside of her wrist. “I appreciate your honesty,” he replies, trying not to cringe. They sound like aliens who are trying to communicate like humans. “You know I do. As long as you’re doing your best to heal, I won’t press. I promise.” 

Now that they’ve skirted that landmine, Natasha looks up at him with a small grin, tilting her head to the TV. “The beach?” She asks, and the look on her face tells him that she knows exactly why he misdirected the press.

He can’t help it; he presses three more kisses to her hand, grinning when she laughs at his antics. “Hey, I learned from the best.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Well, The Best would like to ask what time we’re leaving for the farmhouse.”

Tony smiles. “There’s just no surprising you, is there?”

Natasha’s eyes grow serious, and this time, she pulls him down to press a gentle kiss to his lips. It’s still so new and precious, each sign of affection she bestows upon him, and he presses closer to her, curving a careful arm around her back. The muscles there contract before relaxing, and she sighs.

“Yes,” she reminds him as she lets her head fall on his shoulder. “Yes, there is.” 

-

They arrive at the farm with little fanfare, Daisy darting forward to scoop a shrieking Lila into her arms. Tony stays back with Natasha, hovering a hand over her back. They haven’t talked about telling other people, and they still need to figure out whether their friends should know the truth, but they are here for Natasha to heal. 

So Tony’s hand hovers instead of pressing the way he’d like to, because he doesn’t want to make this visit into teasing or shocking revelations or explanations, and it is still something that feels too much to reveal, even to Natasha’s best friend. He wants this to be for  _ them _ . From the way Natasha does not back into his hand, he knows she probably feels the same. 

Laura gathers Natasha into her arms on the porch, not even blinking when Natasha doesn’t return the gesture wholeheartedly. After a few seconds, she steps back into Tony’s space, body tensing as Clint jogs up from the shed to greet her. 

“Heya, Nat,” he smiles; he looks like he always does at the farmhouse, grease and oil up to his elbows. Tony swallows back guilt at the sight of the blinking bracelet around his ankle, knowing that they’ve already spoken at length and Clint bears him no ill will. “Stark,” he nods, before turning back to his best friend. “So, on a scale of one to Budapest?”

Natasha chuckles, giving him a quick, one armed hug. “Bali,” she says with certainty. 

Clint whistles; Tony notices his eyes shift from cursory concern to a deep sort of understanding and tension. He knows the two have their own code, and Laura is evidently aware as well, rolling her eyes at him in companionship. He gives her a grateful smile. 

“I need a hand out in the shed,” Clint offers, waving at Natasha. She gives him a close-lipped smile and a nod, stepping forward.

Tony blinks. “Nat, are you sure you should…?”

Clint eyes him sharply, assessing. Tony knows he’s been a spy too long not to notice that something has changed. He reads the space between them like a map, and Tony waits to be called out. Clint says nothing, though, and he’s not sure if that’s better or worse. 

Natasha shrugs; Tony knows that, by now, she’s a little annoyed with his mother hen act. He won’t apologize though; he refuses to stop trying to take care of her, even when she thinks she doesn’t need it. “I’ll be fine,” she promises, and he can tell it takes a lot for her to accept any sort of coddling, so he gives her a soft smile. 

He still watches her go, all the way into the building until he can’t see her anymore. He wonders just when he turned into a lovesick puppy. Laura smirks at him knowingly, putting Nathaniel into his arms before guiding him inside.

-

The second day, Tony finds Natasha in the basement at 5:30 in the morning. There is a beat up punching bag in the corner of the dark room, swinging back and forth like it weighs nothing. She approaches the bag with something beyond the cool, calculating Natasha he is used to seeing in the field and in training; her punches are a little wild, her kicks hit a little too hard, and her lip is curled in distaste. If he didn’t know her better than he knew anyone, he wouldn’t have noticed, but Tony has been watching this woman fight for years. Each movement she makes is like a line of code to him: filled with information to analyze. 

He jerks his head at Daisy in the corner, whose eye he had caught when he entered. He knows she prefers to do her Tai Chi outside if she can, and Clint’s property supplies nature in abundance. It is another clue to evaluate; Daisy must have come down to be with Natasha. 

After finishing her final pose, she exits up the stairs with a gentle press of her hand on Tony’s arm. And that’s when Tony knows it’s bad.

They have yet to navigate one of their emotionally tense moments since they have gotten together, so Tony approaches with his own brand of caution: awkward, rambling humor. 

“It hurt you?” Tony jokes, gesturing to the punching bag. “Because the suit’s just upstairs, and I’m sure I can take care of it much faster with a repulsor to the general-face-area then you can with your fists.”

Natasha just shakes her head. “I’m doing just fine, Tony. You can go back upstairs.”

He knows he shouldn’t mention her injuries, but eyeing the bandages with their slight red tint, he can’t help it. “Nat, maybe you should take it easy-”

Of course it is the wrong thing to say, especially after his other many comments along the same vein, but he still takes a step back when she spins on him. “Would you say that to Thor? Or Bruce?”

“That isn’t fair,” he begins.   


“I’m not made of glass, Tony,” she argues. “Us doing… whatever we’re doing - it doesn’t change the fact that I’m an Avenger. I know what I’m capable of, and I know when to stop.” 

“Yeah,” Tony agrees, irritation seeping into his voice, “an Avenger who got shot twice and nearly bled out in my arms. I’m not worried because we kissed once, Romanoff. I’m worried because I was sitting,  _ alone,  _ in a hospital room, thinking I was the last Avenger because you were careless, and I’d rather not repeat that experience because you’re pissed about being benched for a week!” 

She glares at him. “Careless?” She questions slowly, as if she can’t quite believe the word came out of his mouth. 

“Nat-”

“Don’t think I haven’t seen the way you’ve looked at me the past few days,” she tells him, the Natasha he knows retreating in pain as the Black Widow comes out. “Like I could fall apart at any second. I didn’t need to come here, Tony, I did it for you. I knew you needed time to recover.” He sputters at her words, but she doesn’t let him speak. “I need space,” she tells him, and the iron in her voice is laced with an undercurrent of fear that he is too angry to hear. 

He throws up his hands, shoving the sight of that patch of red on her stomach to the back of his mind. “You have it,” he retorts, acidic and hot to her cool fury. He makes for the stairs, and the silence behind him aches.


	2. you could see the truth in me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> apparently i can't let nat and tony fight for long lol i'm so weak.
> 
> also more thumb kisses bc @natashastarkotp and others love that, and i aim to please. <3

Maybe this is a bad idea. Them. Together. 

Everything about their relationship had been perfect. They had trusted each other. They had supported each other. Then, the worst case scenario happened and they made a decision to change in the heat of the moment. 

And now they are paying the price. 

When Tony makes it to the top of the basement stairs, his heart in his shoes and his hands vibrating with the need to  _ fix-do-save _ , Laura takes one look at him and points him to the pile of unchopped wood by the side of the house. He rolls up his sleeves and follows her direction, resolutely pushing away memories of friends who probably already knew the secrets that would later destroy them. With each downward strike of the axe, Tony reviews the facts.

Fact one: he loves her. 

This one is easy to admit. He’s only said it aloud recently, but deep down, he’s been so certain of this for such a long time that it feels like it’s been a part of him since before they even met. The feeling hits him in his core, in his bones, and he knows that he can’t live without her. 

Fact two: she loves him.

Tony isn’t afraid of this truth. It’s in her actions, in her eyes, in the way she had to let him know that he meant something to her when she thought she was going to die, and it goes much deeper than the few kisses they’ve shared. Natasha’s trust and vulnerability are so precious to him, and he’s well aware of the allowances she’s made to be able to fit him into her life the way she has. 

Fact three: they both have serious hangups. 

This is the fact that worries Tony the most, that has the most potential to render facts one and two moot. With the amount of PTSD, anxiety, and just general damage that exists in Avengers Tower with only three people living there, they probably deserve their own team of psychotherapists. Neither of them has ever had a long term, successful relationship - Tony had been too addicted to his suits and saddled with the worst kind of guilt to make Pepper happy, and Natasha’s brief liaison with Bruce had crashed and burned hard. 

And he’s just not sure how to fix it all enough to ensure that Natasha and he will last. Because he wants that. He wants them to last. But there’s only one unacceptable option: that they make a go of it, and it ends badly and he loses her completely. He’ll end the romance today if that’s the only way to keep her with him. 

“Hey Stark, we need firewood, not completely obliterated wood.”

Tony barely stops himself from jumping thirty feet in the air, turning to find Clint watching him with his arms folded over his chest.

“Jesus, Barton, how long have you been there?” He tries not to gasp, but from Clint’s smirk, he’s unsuccessful. Clint, unlike Natasha, has never been afraid to show off the skills that make him one of the most dangerous spies in the world. Natasha, on the other hand, so easily pulls off acting so normal that no one could ever see her coming. It’s how they met, Tony thinks fondly, any bad feelings from that betrayal having long since faded. 

“Long enough,” comes the cryptic response, but Clint gives it with a friendly smirk. He strolls over, parking himself on a pile of wood. “C’mon, let’s chat.” Hands folding over themselves, Clint listens patiently. It reminds Tony of the time when he reluctantly revealed to the team that he wore hearing aids, to everyone except Natasha’s surprise. That still surprises Tony, but he figures they all have their hangups - what makes them Avengers is how they work not only in spite of it, but even use it to their favor. Clint’s other reflexes are so honed that Tony doubts he even has need of hearing. 

“I don’t remember signing up for Hawkeye’s Bad Relationship Advice, thanks though,” he responds, remaining standing. He really has no need of Clint’s interference here - not when he’s certainly on Natasha’s side. 

Clint rolls his eyes, sighing deeply, confirming Tony’s suspicions. Who would ever be on his side, really? There’s a long history between Tony and every so-called friend he’s ever had that gives him endless evidence to the fact. After examining Tony’s closed-off posture for a moment, Clint snarks back: “I don’t know what she sees in you.”

“Again,” Tony cuts in, “I really don’t see how it’s any of your business.”

Clint’s hands flex, and Tony knows he’s trying to stop them from curling into fists. “I’m trying to help you, man!” He almost yells, and Tony takes a step back at the uncharacteristic outburst. “You’re gonna lose her, and - I can’t believe I’m saying this, but you’re good for her.” He looks up at Tony, who is struck by the seriousness in Clint’s eyes. “I just want Tasha to be happy. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.” 

Tony exhales, the fight and bravado draining from his body, plopping down on the pile of wood facing Clint. “Okay - okay. I’ll hear you out.”

“Thanks,” Clint says warily. “Okay,” he begins, folding his hands together. “You gotta take a step back - give her some breathing room.”

Tony inhales deeply, rubbing his chest with an open palm. “You didn’t see her, Clint.” His voice falls to a near whisper, as if the words create a truth of their own. “She nearly died.”

“I know,” Clint says, his voice equally heavy, and his agreement give Tony an almost out-of-body experience. Clint knows Natasha better than anyone, and if Clint had lost hope, it only makes Tony’s fear and anxiety more real. “And believe me, I’ve seen her like that a lot. Too many times. It never gets easier, okay? That’s what you need to know first. She’s always gonna get hurt, and you’re going to have to watch her get patched up and bust her stitches and go too hard too soon. It’s just the way she is.”

Tony swallows, letting his eyes fall shut as he pictures going through the past week over and over again, for the rest of his life. He wonders if he can bear it. “I want her safe.”

Clint chuckles then, and Tony looks at him with annoyed disbelief. “Yeah, that’s what  _ you _ want. But did you ever take a step back and think about what she wants - what she needs?” Tony’s mouth opens and closes, but no words come out. Sure, he’s thought about Natasha needs, but what she wants? He’s not sure they always add up. “Because you might be surprised - people usually know what they need better than someone else does,” Clint adds, easily reading his mind. “Listen - would Laura be happier if I completely retired? Was around for the kids permanently? Yeah, of course. She hates watching me get hurt - I can’t always walk it off like the big guys. But she knows that I need to be out there. I’m an Avenger. I’ll do my best, but sometimes I just need to heal my way, in my body  _ and _ in my head. You get me?”

Tony is quiet, probably quieter than Clint has ever seen him. Finally, he nods.

Clint stands and stretches, reaching forward and clapping him on the shoulder. “Good,” he says, giving Tony a hard look, but he can see the hint of a smile. “And listen - I’m not Nat. Or the Colonel. And we’re not close, or whatever. But I’m a damn good listener, and I’ve been married for over a decade. You can talk to me.”

It hits Tony that this might be the first time he’s ever really had a conversation with Clint about something that really mattered, and he swallows back the witty retort that pops into his mind to instead give him a firm handshake. “Thanks, Clint,” he says, gruff and earnest. It couldn’t have been easy for him to offer - Tony knows they’ve never really gotten along. Maybe that can change. “And thanks for the… advice.”

Clint smirks at him. “Yeah, Barton’s Bad Relationship Advice is always in session. And there’s a reason it wasn’t available for Nat and the Big Guy, yeah?”

Tony takes this hint of approval for what it is, giving Clint a wavering, tight smile in response. He has a lot to think about, so he spends the rest of the day outdoors, chopping wood or working in the shop. Seeing Natasha right now would only hurt them both - they need time to cool off. Daisy stays within his sight in the yard, sometimes playing with the kids, sometimes just staring off towards the mountains. He thinks about checking in on her, but he’s not sure if he can handle more emotions than he’s already dealing with. He watches the ground for vibrations all day, and the world stays steady. Daisy must be steady too. 

At sunset, he goes inside, sitting between Clint and Lila for dinner. Natasha sits across from him; he tries to smile at her and finds that he can, that she returns it, and the gulf between them closes a little more. After everyone has turned in for the night, he knocks on the door to the guest room. Natasha answers it immediately, leaning against the frame, and Tony’s heart flutters at the thought of her waiting for him to come to her.

“Hey,” he says softly, quietly, with only the faint sound of Daisy’s keyboard clicks and Clint’s gentle voice reading a bedtime story two doors down to fill the silence. “I wanted to make sure…” He stops, collecting his thoughts. “I mean, my mom always said it was bad to go to bed angry, and sure she didn't have a gold standard relationship - but I just-”

Natasha mouth widens into a knowing, affectionate smile, and she reaches up, kissing a spot beneath his ear that makes him inhale sharply. “It’s okay, solnyshka.”

Tony takes her hand in his, kissing her thumb in a familiar motion, and for the first time, he doesn’t think of their moment in the hospital with horror. Instead, a familiar sort of wonder - that the same finger she uses to take down men twice her size, she also uses to smooth over his cheekbones. “I’m gonna take that to mean we’re good?” He murmurs, not pulling her into his arms however much he wants to. They still have a lot to figure out, but the feeling that fills him when they’re close makes him almost certain that he wants to give this a try.

He still avoids looking down at her abdomen, but all things take time, he supposes.

“We’re good,” she replies. “We need to talk - and I want to sleep alone, if you think you’re going to be okay-”

“I’ll be fine,” he interrupts, praying that no nightmares find him tonight, squeezing her hand. “Talk tomorrow?”

She nods, closing the door as he turns away. He whistles as he makes up the couch before setting up his interface. It’s time to get some work done, but first -

“FRIDAY, set me up a schedule to learn Russian.”

“Sure, Boss - would you like to have your first lesson?”

“Yeah, start with endearments, would you?”

Tony works into the night, always to the sound of the clicking of Daisy’s keyboard in the next room.

-

They have barely finished breakfast the next morning when things fall apart.

It goes like this: Tony sits in the corner of the room with the kids, playing some sort of block stacking game that Cooper is winning, most likely because he keeps changing the rules every time he’s in trouble. Lila argues with him at every turn, and baby Nathaniel sits quietly in Tony’s arms, watching the proceedings with a discerning expression on his face. Laura and Clint are together on the love seat, in deep conversation with Natasha, who looks over at him every now and then as if to check on him - his ego thinks it’s because Tony Stark With A Baby must be the cutest picture ever. Daisy is sitting upright on the couch, typing away, dark circles under her eyes that she had waved away when questioned about at the breakfast table. 

Eventually, Natasha stands, making her way to Tony. She takes the baby out of his hands, depositing him in the playpen. Tony’s hand finds the small of her back, and Natasha leans down to nuzzle the baby with her familiar playful whisper of ‘traitor’ to his soft cheek. Nathaniel giggles, and Tony smiles, and surely everything is going to be fine - he thought about it a lot last night, about Clint’s words and his own observations, how he can treat Natasha like she can take care of herself while still caring about her health, and he’s ready - they’re going to be okay-

And then Daisy explodes.

Well, that’s a bit of an exaggeration. She stands, pushing her laptop on the floor, and makes to leave the room when he stops her. Which, apparently, is not the best idea.

“Daisy? Are you-?”

She spins back, tears in her eyes. “No - don’t say my name like that,” she says, voice low, dangerously low, and none of them register Clint scooping Lila and Cooper into Laura’s arms, planting himself in front of them. “You have no right…” Her voice wavers, then climbs in intensity. “You almost died,” she accuses Natasha, who steps away from Tony’s hand to reach for Daisy. “No! No, you could’ve died - and I had to talk to everyone - Clint and Steve and Wanda and Rhodey and Peter but I didn’t know! I told them you were gonna be okay but I didn’t know.” She swallows back sobs, her face turning red. “And Tony was just sitting there, and I didn’t know how anything was ever going to be okay again because every family I’ve had has died or left or abandoned me, and I don’t know why - why they always leave me alone-”

She’s openly crying now, and Natasha takes another step forward. Tony is paralyzed - he had promised to check in on Daisy days ago. She has been acting strange since Natasha’s hospitalization. How did he get so wrapped up in himself that he missed all the signs? _ Just another person I love that I’ve let down,  _ he thinks, hardly breathing as guilt and self-hate course through him. 

“Dais…” Natasha murmurs. “I’m okay - we’re not leaving you - we’re a team-”

Daisy sobs. “Stop lying!” she yells, and all at once, the house shudders. 

It stops almost as soon as it starts, Daisy’s eyes wide as she finally takes in the way that Clint stands firm in front of his children, how Laura’s face turns white. She crumbles to the floor in response, holding herself as if to keep her powers contained, and no one has the wherewithal to lunge forward and catch her.

Half a minute passes with no movement, but then Tony notices Clint usher his family out of the room. He is easily the most capable of them to deal with powered people losing control after his experience with Wanda, and he clearly knows it, taking a step forward as the panic in his face fades to sympathy and understanding. He is only a few feet from Daisy’s crumpled form when Tony’s arm reaches out to stop him. 

Because - no. Clint’s not the one to help Daisy. It’s Tony’s job, because Clint doesn’t love this girl, who spends the night in his lab when he’s having a rough day, who takes Peter under her wing so easily, who learns authentic Russian dishes to make Natasha smile. But Tony does. He loves her like a sister. 

Natasha and he share one, brief look, confirming that she’s thinking the exact same thing, before they converge on Daisy, slipping their arms around her, apologizing to her, forgiving her. 

And it hits Tony that he’s not afraid anymore. Because, though Natasha and he have some boundaries to set up, he knows they can work it out. Partly for Pete and Daisy and their family, yes, but mostly because he refuses to lose the warm feeling he has around her because of a shaky beginning. They’re the goddamn Avengers. But more importantly, they’re a family. This is the next step, and he’s ready to work through whatever it takes for them to get there. 

And if he needs another reason, he finds it there, kneeling on the floor of Clint’s farmhouse. It's like this: he doesn’t know if he can survive without Natasha’s hand as it presses hard against his on Daisy’s back, an armor, he knows, that is even stronger than vibranium. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just in case y'all were out here forgetting that my girl daisy needs some love! 
> 
> one more!!


	3. now i wake up by your side

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> last one! i really hope you guys enjoy - trying desperately to get all my fics on track before classes begin <3

Natasha finds him two days later, the evening before they are set to leave. They’ve spent a lot of time together over the past few days, usually with Daisy added to the equation, training and working and baking a truly awful practice cake with the kids for Laura’s upcoming birthday. It allows Laura and Clint to have much deserved time to themselves, and Natasha is impatient for the Accords to get approved so that Clint can finally have more freedom of movement. It’s a matter of weeks, surely.

But all thoughts of the New Accords are pushed away when Daisy urges her to go seek out Tony, almost shyly adding that she thought she should give Coulson a call. Natasha hopes that Coulson will take the vaguely threatening message she sends him on her way to the dining room the right way - she refuses to let anything else set Daisy back in her recovery. Tony and she have already resolved to pay more attention, while Daisy has promised to be more transparent about her emotions. She’s wondered faintly the past few days about connecting Wanda and Daisy, weighing the pros of a beginning truly empathetic friendship versus the cons of one pulling down the other. There is a lack of female connection in the Avengers already, but Clint’s subtle training of a young archer prodigy that he only recently revealed to her and the introduction of the Dora Milaje to the team shows that now is the moment to change that. If Wanda and Daisy can get along, they can become leaders so that Natasha can, well-

There’s a lot to think about in the future, is all. 

Once entering the kitchen, she perches herself on a barstool next to Tony, who is fiddling away with some gadget. He smiles up at her, dropping his bit of machinery to turn and face her. “Where’s the rest of the crew?” 

Natasha shrugs. “Daisy’s out on the porch talking to Coulson - I think Clint and Laura are in the basement with the kids.”

Tony’s grin turns into a smirk. He hops off his barstool, running his fingers along the line of her shoulders as he makes his way around the bar. “So just us - want anything?” She nods, gesturing to the pitcher of water. “And what brings you to my humble workstation this evening, Agent Romanoff?”

“I thought you might miss me,” she ventures with a matching smirk, brushing her fingers against his as he hands her the glass. It takes her back to their first real mission as a team, ACDC blasting through her plane’s speakers, a mixture of irritation and humor and relief running through her veins that she never could have explained until now, years later.

From the faraway look in his eyes, she knows Tony is taken back to the same moment. “I always miss you,” he says absently, seriously. “I missed you back then too, you know. When you disappeared after the Expo.”

Natasha shakes her head. “That’s a lie,” she accuses gently.

Tony looks contemplative, unbothered by her words. “You’d think so, right? But no, you were my first introduction to a world that I thought I had a monopoly on. You were so different - interesting. The other guys too, but you? I was dying to relearn all the buttons to push - not Natalie’s, but yours.”

Natasha rewards him with a genuinely affectionate look. “There were quite a few others before you,” she reveals. “Some I was in on, others I… found out about.” Tony gives her a teasing wink- he wonders how much of what she learned was what she was actually supposed to know. “But you were different. You changed our operations - you got under my skin,” she admits. 

He leans against the counter. “Why, Romanoff, are you finally admitting a weakness?”

“One,” she says dryly, and he laughs. After a long, comfortable silence, the warmth in his expression finally allows her to say what’s on her mind. “I know Clint got to you,” she says, voice low, eyes down. “I know you have a piece to say - but you should know, he talked to me too.” Tony draws back up to standing, motioning for her to continue. “You make a lot of grand gestures,” she begins.

“I have a lot of money - more than I can spend,” he says, but she is already shaking her head. 

“No, with your time,” she corrects gently. “Working on my armor, learning Russian…” She shrugs, her lower lip quirking and wobbling in a gesture that Tony recognizes as extreme vulnerability. He takes one of her hands, and she holds on with a vise-like grip. “I don’t know what you want in return. I want to know about you - how to help you too.”

If she had been anyone else, he would have been amused. It’s almost a domestic concern compared to the literally earth shattering events they deal with on a daily basis, but it’s a concern that she clearly feels insecure about, so he takes a long moment to think before responding. “Things don’t have to change now that we’re labeling things, Nat,” he says finally, squeezing her hand. “It’s not suddenly a quid pro quo deal.”

“I know,” she tells him, still looking away. “I just… haven’t felt this need to reciprocate before.” 

“Look at me,” he urges, and she does. “Just having you sit there,” he admits, “like you have the past few months, filing your nails or, I dunno, issuing threats over email or whatever secret spies do, is plenty. The way you stay after nightmares, the late night hot chocolate breaks…” He trails off before pinning her in place with intensely emotive eyes. “The silence is what astounds me. Not many people have taken the time to just - be there. And understand. The armor and everything else are nothing compared to what you give me.” 

Natasha smiles at him, warm and precious, before her expression turns serious. “They aren’t nothing,” she tells him. “They never have been. They make me feel valued.” Her expression turns almost sheepish. “So - thank you.”

“Anytime,” is all he can reply with, and though it’s simple, it’s also perfectly true. He always plans on being there for her. 

“We should talk about you too,” she says a minute later, placing her other hand on top of their already tangled fingers. 

Tony exhales - what he really needs to hear is her echo Clint’s theories so he knows exactly what to say, but the words he’s been thinking since his conversation with Clint bubble up inside him until he has to put them in the world. “I talked to Clint,” he starts, abrupt and stilted, a faint blush covering his cheeks when he remembers they already covered this only five minutes ago.

Natasha leans forward, her elbows on the table, gazing up at him. Her hands stay in his, for which he’s almost overwhelmingly grateful. “I’m sorry if I was controlling,” he continues in a rush, the words pouring out of him with such a speed that he hopes that she can understand him. “It’s no excuse, but I was afraid - so afraid. I can’t lose you. Sitting in that hospital, I couldn’t handle it - there’s no Avengers without you - there’s no me, no Iron Man without you -”

She stands, making her way around the table to stand in front of him, not releasing his hands until she has to in order to wind her strong arms around him. “Sometimes I need space,” she whispers over the rapid breaths he’s taking. He doesn’t want to break down in her arms. They’ve already had enough tears this trip. “You can still remind me to take care of myself - I promise I’ll do a better job of hearing you. But I need you to respect me when I don’t always listen.”

Tony slides his arms from her waist to her shoulders, hauling her closer, breathing her in. “I was wrong to blow up. I can’t promise to stop worrying, but you’re the strongest person I know. I swear I’ll treat you that way.”

She holds him tighter for a brief moment before releasing him, taking a step back. He can tell this moment has been a lot for her, so he gives her the space, lets her breathe. After a few more minutes of quiet conversation about more concrete boundaries and expressions both for the need of space and the lack of it, he reaches forward, pushing a strand of her hair behind her hair, running several fingers down her arm until he can take her hand. He draws her around the counter, climbing onto a stool and urging her to sit as well. Their joined hands hang between them, tightly clasped, a familiar bridge amidst raging waters. “I didn’t realize how long I was… anticipating this,” she says, slow and careful, her eyes on their physical connection. “A week ago, I was so relieved to be able to say it - I’ve never thought I deserved it.”

Tony just gazes at her, seeing more, seeing her past and her promises and loving her more and more every second. “Me too,” he admits. “And now that we’re in it…”

Natasha chuckles, rubbing his shoulder with her free hand. “We’re quite a pair, aren’t we?” She agrees wryly, her lips quirking at the corners.

Tony sighs, reaching down and hooking a finger into her belt-loop, pulling her off her stool to rest between his legs. She goes easily, molding her body to his, head tucked in the crook between his neck and shoulder. His hands find the back pockets of her jeans, a move that in any other situation would be sexual, but not with them, not now. Sex has long been a tool for both of them to wield, especially Natasha, and it’s surprisingly not a priority in their relationship yet - the verbal intimacy is more important by leaps and bounds. “This is gonna work,” he tells her, and there is no question in his voice, no doubt. “We’re still gonna take it day by day, but we’re gonna last.”

Natasha removes her head from his shoulder, looking up to meet his eyes. “I know,” she says. “And everything else - Pete and Daisy, the team, everything - what do we do?” she asks, and it is a very un-Natasha-like question, full of uncertainty and vulnerability. It sounds like the words of trust she had exchanged with Steve a guest bedroom and the words of comfort she had given Clint after he killed his fellow agents. Yet, there is something more - an anxiety thrumming underneath her skin like buzzing bees. She only lets herself express it as a small twitch, but Tony looks at her with knowing eyes. 

“Whatever you want,” he promises. “Whatever you want to do, I’ll take it.” He soothes the uncertainty by slowly pressing his forehead against hers. “But whatever it is, even if we disagree, I’m in _ this _ for the long haul.” She doesn’t sigh or relax, but she doesn’t withdraw, instead curling a little closer. “And this is for us,” he adds fiercely.

“It won’t always be,” she warns, winding her fingers in his hair. A breeze rustles the open curtains, and with the soft chirps of crickets as the only sound other than their combined breathing, it almost feels like they could stay here forever. 

But they can’t. They have responsibilities. They have friends that rely on them. 

Still, Tony thinks, holding her tighter, maybe tonight they can pretend. They can pretend here, in Clint’s kitchen, and more importantly, they can pretend later with the kids playing at their feet, Laura and Clint and Daisy sharing the couch and a bottle of wine. Lila coerces Nat and Daisy into braiding her long hair, and the two women expertly twist it into several different directions that have Lila rolling on the floor in laughter, tears streaming down her cheeks. As Natasha fixes it into something more presentable, Daisy and Tony share a long look filled with relief and understanding. They made it. Their family is going to be okay. The worst, at least of this particular crisis, is over. 

When Natasha walks into the kitchen to take the hot chocolate that Laura had made out of the pot, her voice low and warm with some clever remark she is exchanging with Clint, Tony is suddenly struck with an affection so deep he can hardly breathe. Natasha is like no one he has ever known. She’s not just a fighter - not just someone to protect - she’s both neither and more than these things, and trying to figure out the truth of her makes his head hurt. Natasha is like a gleaming knife, shining in the darkness, one made of the same metals that used to hover too close to his heart. A threat at first, but he is better now for them, better now that he has her. He sharpens himself on her edges.

(natasha watches him back across the room, when he isn’t looking. she thinks tony is like the sun. she has never felt so warm in all her life.) 

-

“You and Clint?” She asks once they’ve boarded the jet. He can hear the smile in her voice. 

“New development,” he says. The door closes with a hiss behind them, signifying the end of an era and the beginning of something new. Tony’s looking forward to seeing what that is, now that the overpowering fear is on simmer.

“I think it’s cute,” she observes, smiling for real this time. He’s not sure how he hadn’t always noticed Natasha has a lovely smile - her eyes light up when her happiness is genuine, and the air around her actually seems brighter. Maybe it’s just because he’s in love with her, but he suspects it might just be Natasha herself, if the way that Daisy, Peter, and Clint all easily fall into her orbit. 

“Am I a joke to you?” He teases, nudging her gently as he sits down next to her.

“I ship it!” Daisy calls from the front of the plane, walking back to them.

Tony rolls his eyes. “It’s not gonna happen, Dais.”

Daisy wedges herself between them with a bright smile, and Tony feels a paign when he remembers how blind he was, how he hadn’t realized that grin was missing for days. He scoots over to give her room, but not too much. She wants less space, and Nat needs more.

He knows that now. He won’t mess this up. If Natasha can be patient with him about his PTSD, he can respect her boundaries. 

“I’m not sure,” she is saying to Natasha. “It worked last time.” She looks back and forth between them with her eyebrows raised before falling into laughter. 

Tony isn’t surprised to find that she’s discovered their new relationship. They haven’t been obvious, but to someone like Daisy who sees them everyday, the difference must be stark. “About that, Daisy…” he begins, starting before he’s really formed a thought.

Daisy turns serious, and Tony gets a glimpse of why Coulson must have suggested that she had been in the running for assistant director of SHIELD. “I know you probably want to keep it quiet. I won’t say a word, ever, I swear.” 

Natasha sits up straighter, looking Daisy in the eye. “We know that. We trust you - and you’re a part of our team. Our decisions concern you, so don’t be afraid to speak up.”

Daisy’s mouth falls open, but Tony just gazes at Natasha with pride. “She knows, honey,” Tony replies, and the endearment tastes like its namesake on his tongue. 

Natasha winks at him, and Daisy recovers. “Afraid to speak up? Nah, that’s not me,” she laughs. “Okay, I’ll leave you two lovebirds to canoodle in the back - ETA Tower in one hour.” She saunters out, and that’s that. 

One month later, the new Accords pass, and Tony catches Natasha in his arms for a short embrace. He pulls back after a few moments, but he keeps hold of her hands. “So we’re doing this?” His grin is wide, unfettered. He sounds like an overeager puppy. He doesn’t care.

Natasha’s smile blooms. To the press, it looks like she has shark’s teeth. To Tony, her eyes sparkle with something much more vulnerable. “We just did it,” she points out. 

He laughs then, pulling on the hand that he has encased in his, pressing a gentle kiss to her lips. It might be the most chaste show of affection he’s ever instigated in public; their bodies are not touching except for their hands and lips. 

There is a moment so silent that one could hear a pin drop. Then the room explodes.

The press in the room is professional, of course, and the rest of them are formal dignitaries, but the wall to their right is glass and the rest of the rabble wait eagerly for them to exit. The flashes would be blinding if Tony hadn’t grown up in the spotlight, now well used to them. And he doesn’t think anything so plebeian could faze Natasha. 

When they pull apart, he guides her hand to his lips, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to the inside of her wrist. “I think we have another celebration to get to, don’t you?” He says, waggling his eyebrows at her. 

Instead of laughing, she pins him in place with a sultry gaze - and oh god, is she good at it - leaning forward until her lips brush the curve of his ear. “Well, I only bought this dress so you could take it off,” she murmurs, and Tony feels heat rise underneath his skin. The emotional and supportive side of their relationship is everything he’s ever imagined that he needs, but their bedroom activities are skyrocketing out in space somewhere. 

“Yeah, we’re going,” he agrees, tugging on her so that she bumps against him. “I want to watch the playback on FRIDAY and see who was really surprised. I’m pretty sure the Norwegian ambassador has had us pegged for months - and speaking of -” 

Natasha lets him ramble, winking at T’Challa as they reach the doors. With their hands tightly clasped, Tony pulls her into the flashing lights.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> did you guys like this add on to delicate? always wary about adding onto a story, but if you guys liked, maybe we can do this more!! let me know, and thanks for reading <3
> 
> (also, yes, in the middle there are nods to both kate bishop and the idea that nat knows about carol, so yay)

**Author's Note:**

> it's gonna be okay!
> 
> hope you guys enjoyed so far <3


End file.
